


rite of passage

by mahariels



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, cullen getting trolled by teenaged lavellans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahariels/pseuds/mahariels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>inquisitor lavellan loses track of her husband in the chaos of her homecoming, much to his dismay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	rite of passage

It felt good to be home, though it wasn’t really home as she’d known it. Clan Lavellan had settled in Wycome, not without trouble, but under Deshanna’s steady hand they’d made something of a permanent home for themselves. It would take some getting used to–thinking of her family living within a city’s walls–but then, it was not the most troubling revelation about the Dalish she’d had in the last few months. 

It was strange, but good to know they were above all _safe_. She hadn’t told Deshanna or anyone else what she’d learned in the Crossroads, what she’d learned from Fen’Harel. It wouldn’t do any good to let them know, and it was a burden she bore alone–or almost alone. Cullen might not have known much about Dalish customs when they’d first met, but her husband had been a willing and sympathetic listener the first and only time she’d cried like the world had been ripped away from her.

It was strange, to think that she had a husband, and that he was a shem at that. It was strange to think she was missing an arm and was still learning to fight one-handed, but she had survived worse. 

Whatever had happened, she was home, and the barely-controlled chaos of clan life was bursting around her, with the children screaming and running through Wycome’s streets and the smell of familiar comfort food bubbling away at fires and each door open and welcoming like the aravel flaps had always been, and she felt like herself for the first time in the five or so years she’d been Inquisitor.

There was only one thing missing, and that was her husband, who she’d left behind when she went to speak first to the Keeper.

She left her conference with Deshanna and began the search. Halani went to Master Atisha, but the elderly craftsmaster told her only that she had not seen him. She asked all of her childhood friends: Mahanon and Ellana and Sulahn, the Keeper’s First, but none of them had seen him. Sulahn, with a small smile on her lips, said, “You may have better luck if you find Danehn and his crew of miscreants.”

“They _didn’t_ ,” Halani said, scowling, and began plotting out the many ways she would need to murder them.

“I’m afraid they may have.” Sulahn patted her on the shoulder. “I do believe you’re up for the challenge, Halani.” 

Now that she had a lead it wasn’t difficult. Danehn had always left a trail of destruction in his wake, and city living hadn’t changed him a whit. In the end, she found them in a tavern that had been repurposed as the clan’s kitchen and communal eating area. Cullen sat at the table surrounded by teenaged Lavellan children, each of them with shit-eating grins a mile wide on their faces, and a gigantic bowl of Dalish Deep Forest Comfort before him. Cullen looked a little green and the bowl was about half full.

“I was looking _everywhere_  for you!” 

The boys all looked up when they heard her voice and instantly the shit-eating grins were replaced by slightly sheepish smiles. “Hello, Halani!” Danehn said. “We were just making sure your she–your husband wasn’t gonna go hungry in our care.”

Cullen also smiled at her, a little weakly. He was still wearing his armor but had forgone the gigantic cape and helmet on her suggestion, looking smaller and more vulnerable as a result. She noticed that he had the beginnings of a black eye and numerous scratches on his hands, and swore under her breath. She should have known better. 

“It’s, ah, delicious,” Cullen said, and hiccuped. He swallowed hard. Looked very much as though he was trying not to vomit.

“You know you didn’t need to eat that,” Halani told him. “It has insects in it. No one would have been offended if you said no, and you didn’t need to eat _that_  much.”

“I was… trying to make a good impression,” Cullen said, and pushed the bowl a little further away from him.

“A good impression? On _Danehn_? What else did he do, make you prove your strength? Your worth? Let me guess, a ‘traditional clan rite’?”

Cullen’s eyes darted between Halani and Danehn and narrowed, though to his credit, he said nothing. Danehn was snickering–they were all laughing, and Cullen’s face was red, though he held his tongue. 

“I’m giving you to the count of three to get the _hell_  out of here,” Halani said to the children, “and I’m not making any promises I won’t make you sorry for it.”

“Thank you, hahren,” Danehn sing-songed on his way out, making an elaborate bow to both of them.

“I’m going to kill him,” she grumbled, and crossed the room in two strides to check on him. It was still instinct that she raised both of her hands to touch his face, though the stump of her arm of course didn’t reach, and as always she had a moment of strange vertigo because her body didn’t match her mind.

“It’s all right,” Cullen said, with a sigh. “It wasn’t as bad as some of the hazing you undergo as a templar recruit. I’ve only got _one_  black eye, and I suppose if I can keep bugs down, I can eat anything.”

“Thank you,” Halani told him quietly. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“I ate the bugs and let Danehn and his friends ‘joust’ with me,” Cullen replied, “I’m quite sure I do.”

Hugging him one-armed was not the same, but it would have to do. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and stubbornly thanked Mythal for small mercies.


End file.
